


Houses Of The Holy (2.13)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [36]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Related, Episode: s02e13 Houses of the Holy, Ghosts, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:19:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An angel causes playas ta cheerfully go up ta murder, n' when tha Winchestas rewind one of dem falls under its sway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

SUBTITLE  
Providence, Rhode Island

A lil' biatch (GLORIA) is chillin up in a thugged-out dark room, watchin televizzle (it appears ta be "Da Drew Carey Show") n' tokin. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch wears smudged hooker makeup n' tha table ta her left holdz nuff muthafuckin lil' small-ass angel statues n' a ashtray filled wit blunt butts.

 **DIALOGUE ON TV:**  
_WOMAN  
__How tha fuck lil?_

 **** _DREW  
__How tha fuck bout "a lil eyeshadow"?_  
(LAUGHTRACK)  
Yo ass know, all dis stuff, itz just straight-up unprofessional.

**_MIMI  
_ ** _Don't bust a nut on tha troll!_

****_DREW  
_ _Is dat what tha fuck yo' momma used ta say ta yo' dates?  
(LAUGHTRACK)_

**_MIMI  
_ ** _Put tha trolls down or I be bout ta put a staple right between your-_

GLORIA sighs heavily n' lifts tha remote control fo' realz. As we pan over ta reveal tha televizzle, she flips ta a televangelist station.

 **TELEVANGELIST  
** Now I know itz hard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It aint nuthin but hard ta look up when you down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It aint nuthin but hard ta look up n' peep tha light. But I be here ta rap folks, tha Lord is wit you, biatch.

GLORIA turns off tha televizzle; tha lamp ta her right begins sputterin n' flickering. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch looks around, frowning, n' stamps up her blunt. Da televizzle suddenly turns on again, n' GLORIA gasps up in shock.

 **TELEVANGELIST  
** Yo ass don't gotta suffer, you don't gotta be lost. Da lord is poppin' off ta you right now; da perved-out muthafucka saying, yo ass is mah lil pimp n' you gotz a purpose biaaatch! Yo ass be thinkin Dogg forgot bout yo slick ass, biatch? I rap no! All you gots ta do is listen! Can't you just hear dem angels rappin, biatch? Isn't it dope, biatch? It aint nuthin but time. It aint nuthin but time ta receive tha message da perved-out muthafucka sending. It aint nuthin but time ta dig tha Word of Dogg hommie! Do you hear tha glory, biatch? I holla'd, can you hear it, biatch? I holla'd, can you just hear tha glory?

Da lamp is still flickerin n' tha entire room begins ta shake. GLORIA clutches all up in tha couch, lookin round up in panic. Behind her, a funky-ass blindin light glows, n' dat dunkadelic hoe turns ta grill it up in horror, then awe.

 **GLORIA (no sound)  
** Oh mah god.

 


	2. ACT ONE

INT. PSYCH WARD - DAY

GLORIA is seated on tha fuckin' down-lowly on her bed up in a psych ward. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Her afro is straight n' her grill clean; dat biiiiatch bustin a funky-ass bathrobe n' readin a funky-ass book held up in her left hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da door opens behind her n' dat dunkadelic hoe turns.

 **GLORIA  
** Dope morning. Yo ass aint tha usual muthafucka.

Pan round ta reveal whoz ass she poppin' off to; itz SAM, up in white scrubs n' holdin a cold-ass lil clipboard.

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, uh, just fillin in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So how tha fuck you feelin todizzle, Gloria?

 **GLORIA  
** I've never felt mo' betta n' shit. 

 **SAM  
** So, no disturbances lately?

 **GLORIA  
** Yo ass mean is I stark ravin cuckoo fo' cocoa puffs?

 **SAM  
** I didn't' say all dis bullshit.

 **GLORIA  
** It aint nuthin but all right. I know what tha fuck playas must think. 

 **SAM  
** What do you think?

 **GLORIA  
** I be thinkin what tha fuck I saw was real.

SAM looks around, pulls up a cold-ass lil chair n' sets tha clipboard down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude leans forward, elbows on knees, n' gives her a intensely earnest look. 

 **SAM  
** I'd like ta know what tha fuck you saw.

 **GLORIA  
** Dat shiznit was all over tha news. I jabbed a playa up in tha ass.

 **SAM  
** Why would you do that?

 **GLORIA  
** Because dat shiznit was Godz will.

 **SAM  
** Did Dogg rap ta yo slick ass?

 **GLORIA  
** No. I git tha sense Godz a lil busy fo' doggy den calls. Fuck dat shit, he, da perved-out muthafucka busted one of mah thugs. 

 **SAM  
** Someone?

 **GLORIA  
** An angel. Well shiiiit, it came ta me up in dis dope white light, n' it filled mah crazy ass wit dis feeling. It's, itz hard ta describe.

 **SAM  
** And dis angel...

 **GLORIA  
** Spoke Godz Word.

 **SAM  
** And tha Word was ta bust a cap up in one of mah thugs?

 **GLORIA  
** I know, it soundz strange. But what tha fuck I did was straight-up blingin. I helped his ass smite a evil man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I was chosen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. For redemption. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** This playa you jabbed, did tha angel hit you wit his name?

 **GLORIA  
** Fuck dat shit, he just holla'd at mah crazy ass ta wait fo' tha sign. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And tha straight-up next dizzle I saw it, right beside tha manz doorway fo' realz. And I knew.

 **SAM  
** Why him?

 **GLORIA**  
I just know what tha fuck tha angel holla'd at me: dat dis playa was guilty ta his fuckin lil' deepest foundations fo' realz. And dat was phat enough fo' mah dirty ass. 

  
INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

DEAN is lyin on tha motel bed, which is vibrating, as he listens ta noize on his thugged-out lil' phone yo. Dude looks sort of blissful naaahhmean, biatch? As SAM enters, DEAN don't notice his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM**  
Hey.  
(smackin DEAN on tha boot)  
Yo dawwwwg! (loudly)

 **DEAN  
** Hey. Man, you gotta try all dis bullshit. I mean there straight-up is magic up in tha (air quotes) Magic Fingers.

 **SAM  
** Dean, you trippin' off dat way too much. It aint nuthin but kind of makin me uncomfortable.

 **DEAN  
** What is I supposed ta do, biatch? I mean, you've gots me on lockdown here, I be bugged out outta mah skull. 

 **SAM  
** Yo, you was tha bank robber on tha eleven o'clock hype, not mah dirty ass. We can't risk you just struttin tha fuck into a posse facility. 

 **DEAN**  
Hmm. 

SAM waves a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dismissin hand at DEAN as tha pimpin' muthafucka turns ta go tha fuck into tha bathroom. Da bed shuttas ta stillness.

 **DEAN  
** Aw, dammit son! That was mah last quarter n' shit. Yo dawwwwg! Yo ass gots any quarters?

DEAN pulls his headphones up n' gets up, crossin tha room n' leanin on tha doorway ta tha bathroom where SAM is washin his wild lil' face. 

 **SAM  
** No!

 **DEAN  
** So did you git up in ta peep dat wild-ass hooker?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Gloria Sitnick fo' realz. And I aint so shizzle dat thugged-out biiiatch crazy. 

 **DEAN  
** But her big-ass booty seriously believes dat dat biiiiatch was ... touched by a angel?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Blindin light, vibe of spiritual ecstasy, tha works. I mean, she livin up in a locked ward n' dat dunkadelic hoe straight-up at peace. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh yeah, you right, soundz straight-up sane. What bout tha dude she jabbed?

 **SAM  
** Uh, Carl Gully. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch holla'd she capped his ass cuz da thug was evil.

 **DEAN  
** Was he?

 **SAM  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I mean, I couldn't find any dirt on his muthafuckin ass. I mean, da ruffneck didn't gotz a cold-ass lil criminal record, da thug hit dat shiznit all up in tha campus library, had fuckin shitloadz of playaz yo. Dude was a cold-ass lil churchgoer.

 **DEAN  
** Hm. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So then Gloriaz just yo' standard-issue wacko. I mean, (pshew) dat biiiiatch wouldn't be tha straight-up original gangsta nutjob up in history ta bust a cap up in in tha name of religion. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Know what tha fuck I mean?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shiznit yo, but dat dunkadelic hoe tha second up in hood ta cappin' cuz a angel holla'd at dem to. Little bit odd, don't ya think?

 **DEAN  
** Well, lil odd fo'sho, supernatural maybe. But angels, biatch? I don't be thinkin so.

 **SAM  
** Why not?

 **DEAN**  
(as if itz obvious)  
'Cuz there be a no such thang, Sam.

 **SAM  
** Dean, there be a ten times as much lore bout angels as there be bout anythang else we've eva hunted.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, you know what, biatch? Therez a ton of lore on unicorns like a muthafucka. In fact, I hear dat they, they ride on silver moonbeams, n' they blast rainbows outta they ass. 

 **SAM**  
(sittin down, total deadpan)  
Wait, there be a no such thang as unicorns?

 **DEAN  
** Thatz cute. I be just saying, dude, there be a just some legendz dat you just, you file under "bullcrap".

 **SAM  
** And you've gots angels on tha bullcrap list. 

 **DEAN  
** Yep.

 **SAM  
** Why?

 **DEAN (looks up)  
** Because I've never peeped one. 

 **SAM  
** So what?

 **DEAN  
** So I believe up in what tha fuck I can see.

 **SAM  
** Dean! Yo ass n' I have peeped thangs dat most playas couldn't even trip about. 

 **DEAN  
** Exactly. With our own eyes. Thatz hard proof, aiiight, biatch? But up in all dis time I aint NEVER peeped anythang dat be lookin like a angel fo' realz. And don't you be thinkin dat if they existed dat we would have crossed paths wit them, biatch? Or at least know one of mah thugs dat crossed paths wit them, biatch? No. This be a, a thugged-out demon or a spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Yo ass know, they find playas all dem fries short of a aiiight meal, n' they trick dem tha fuck into cappin' these randoms. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. 

 **SAM  
** Maybe.

 **DEAN**  
(rolls his wild lil' fuckin eyes)  
Can our laid-back asses just I be goin stir-crazy man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo, letz go by Gloriaz crib, huh?

 **SAM  
** I was just there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Nothing. No sulfur, no EMF ...

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass didn't peep any fluffy white win feathers?

 **SAM (sighs)  
** But Gloria did say tha angel gave her a sign, right beside Carl Gullyz doorway. 

 **DEAN**  
(eagerly)  
Could be suttin' at his house; itz worth checkin out.

  
EXT. GULLY HOUSE - DAY

DEAN is rollin as they pull up in front of Carl Gullyz house. Well shiiiit, it aint nuthin but a moderate single-family home wit steps leadin up ta tha front door; ta tha left of tha door be a plastic angel figure. DEAN mounts tha steps n' sees dat shit.

 **DEAN**  
Oh hey, Sam. I be thinkin I found dat shit. (gesturin ta tha angel) It aint nuthin but a sign from up above.  
(he peers up in tha window)  
Well, I be thinkin I hustled a valuable lesson: Always take down yo' Chrizzle decorations afta New Year's, or you might git filleted by a hooker from Dogg. Ha.

 **SAM  
** I be bustin up on tha inside.

SAM wandaz round back, all up in a gate, n' DEAN bigs up; they find a wooden storm cellar. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know, Gloria holla'd tha muthafucka was guilty ta his fuckin lil' deepest foundations. 

 **DEAN**  
Yo ass be thinkin she literally meant tha foundation?

  
INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STORM CELLAR - NIGHT

SAM n' DEAN open tha creakin door n' go down tha steps, shinin flashlights.

 **DEAN  
** Hm.

SAM notices scratches on a wall near tha floor; he leans over ta git a cold-ass lil closer look.

 **SAM  
** Hey.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass gots something?

SAM digs all up in tha wall n' pulls suttin' out.

 **DEAN  
** What tha fuck iz it?

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but a gangbangin' fingernail. 

They peep each other n' shit.

DEAN pulls two shovels from tha wall n' they begin ta dig. 

LATER, a thugged-out deep pit has been completed ta reveal a pile of skeletons.

 **SAM  
** So much fo' tha innocent churchgoin librarian. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, well, whatever was rappin ta Gloria bout dis knew what tha fuck dat shiznit was poppin' off about, I be bout ta hit you wit all dis bullshit.

  
INT. ZACH'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

A lil' playa (ZACH)is lyin on a single bed, starin all up in tha ceilin yo. Dude dranks from a funky-ass forty of liquor; a cold-ass lil comic book entitled "THESEUS" rests open on his chest. Da room begins ta shake violently, tha lights flickering. Mo' bottlez tumble ta tha floor from tha night stand, n' tha televizzle topplez wit a cold-ass lil crash. ZACH scramblez outta bed frantically; a funky-ass blindin light appears up in front of his ass n' dat schmoooove muthafucka holdz up a hand up in terror; then awe washes over his wild lil' features.

  
EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - NIGHT

ZACH strutts down tha sidewalk calmly, handz up in his thugged-out lil' pockets; da perved-out muthafucka sees tha blindin light beside a doggy den n' stops. Dude stares fo' a long-ass time, then nodz n' smilez n' approaches tha house, n' knocks on tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. A middle-aged playa (FRANK) opens tha door.

 **FRANK  
** Yes?

 **ZACH  
** Yo! Hoes call me Zach.

 **FRANK  
** Can I help yo slick ass?

ZACH pulls up a knife n' stabs SNOOPY D-O-DOUBLE-GIZZLE all up in tha ass. We pull back ta reveal a stone angel ta tha left of tha door - approximately where tha blindin light had come from.


	3. ACT TWO

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

DEAN is chillin on tha edge of tha bed wit a five-o radio up in hand, listenin yo. Dude looks painfully bored.

 **WOMAN'S VOICE (POLICE RADIO)  
** We've gots a minor TA, involvin a motorcycle n' a, uh van, dis be all up in tha corner of 28th n' Pine, 28th n' Pine

As SAM enters, DEAN sighs n' looks back sadly all up in tha "Magic Fingers" controller.

 **DEAN (eagerly, almost desperately, lookin back all up in tha Magic Fingers controller)  
** D'you brang quarters?

SAM frowns all up in tha controller.

 **SAM**  
Dude biaaatch! I aint enablin yo' sick habit.   
(tossin a sandwich at DEAN)  
Yo ass is like one of dem lab rats dat pushes tha pleasure button instead of tha chicken button until it dies.

 **DEAN  
** What is you poppin' off about, biatch? I smoke fo' realz. And I gots news.

 **SAM  
** Me like a muthafucka.

 **DEAN  
** All right, you go first. 

 **SAM  
** Three hustlas have disappeared off tha college campus up in tha last year fo' realz. All of dem was last peeped all up in tha library. 

 **DEAN  
** Where Carl Gully worked.

 **SAM  
** Yep.

 **DEAN  
** Sick bastard.

 **SAM  
** So Gloriaz angel-

 **DEAN  
** Angel?

 **SAM  
** Okay. Whatever dis thang is . . .

 **DEAN  
** Okay, well, whatever it is, itz struck again.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** I was listenin ta tha five-o radio before you gots here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. There was dis muthafucka, uh, Zach Smizzle, some local faded; da thug went up ta a strangerz front door last night, jabbed his ass up in tha ass.

 **SAM  
** And then I be guessin da thug went ta tha five-o n' confessed?

 **DEAN**  
Yep. Roma Downey made his ass do dat shit.   
(crossin tha room ta take a Post-it note off tha mirror)  
Now, I, uh . . . gots tha victimz address.

  
EXT. VICTIM'S HOUSE - DAY

SAM n' DEAN climb over tha fence tha fuck into tha yard n' sneak up in all up in tha window. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM sits down all up in tha computa as DEAN searches tha house.

SAM, as DEAN strutts tha fuck into tha room.  
Find anything?

 **DEAN  
** Well, Frank was horny bout his catalog hustlin yo, but thatz bout all I got. 

 **SAM**  
Not much here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Except he gots dis one locked file on his computer, I can't . . . . hold on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   
(he presses all dem buttons, then grins up in triumph)  
Not no mo'. Dogg.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM**  
Well, he gots all these emails. Dozens, ta dis lady named Jennifer.  
(beat)  
This lady whoz thirteen muthafuckin years old. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, I don't wanna hear all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** Looks like they kicked it wit up in a cold-ass lil chat room. These emails is pretty personal, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Look at dis shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Settin up a time n' place ta meet. 

 **DEAN  
** Great.

 **SAM  
** They was supposed ta hook up todizzle. It make me wanna hollar playa! 

 **DEAN  
** Huh. Well, I guess if you gonna stab one of mah thugs, phat timing. I don't give a fuck, dude, dis is weird, you know, biatch? I mean, sure, some spirits is up fo' vengeizzle yo, but dis onez almost like a thugged-out do-gooder, you know, biatch? Like, like a --

 **SAM**  
Avengin angel?  
(DEAN turns away)  
Well, how tha fuck else do you explain it, Dean, biatch? Three muthafuckas, not connected ta each other, all jabbed all up in tha heart, biatch? At least two was ghetto-class pervs, n' I bet if you dug deep enough on tha other muthafucka-

 **DEAN**  
(pickin suttin' up)  
Hey.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass holla'd Carl Gully was a cold-ass lil churchgoer, right?

 **SAM  
** Yeah?

 **DEAN  
** What was tha name of his church?

 **SAM  
** Uh ... Our Lady of tha Angels?

 **DEAN**  
Of course that'd be tha name.  
(he holdz up a cold-ass lil church flier)  
Looks like Frank went ta tha same church. 

  
INT. OUR LADY OF THE ANGELS CHURCH - DAY

DEAN n' SAM strutt all up in tha sanctuary of tha church, bustin lyrics ta a gangbangin' bumpin'-lookin priest (FATHER REYNOLDS).

 **FATHER REYNOLDS  
** So you horny bout joinin tha parish?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, you know, our laid-back asses just don't feel right unless our crazy asses hit church every last muthafuckin Sunday.

**REYNOLDS  
** Where'd you say you lived before?

**SAM  
** Uh ...

 **DEAN  
** Fremont, Texas.

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **REYNOLDS  
** Really, biatch? Thatz a sick town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. St. Teresaz parish, you must know tha priest there.

 **DEAN  
** Sure, yeah, no itz uh, Father O'Malley.

**REYNOLDS  
** Hmm, I know a Father Shaughnessy.

**DEAN  
** Shaughnessy, exactly. What'd I say?

 **SAM (breakin in)  
** Yo ass know, our laid-back asses just aiiight ta be here now, Father n' shit. 

 **REYNOLDS  
** And our crazy asses aiiight ta have you, we could use some lil' blood round here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo, listen, I gotta ask- no offense yo, but uh, tha hood?

 **REYNOLDS  
** Well, itz gone ta seed a lil, there be a no denyin dat yo, but thatz why what tha fuck tha church do here is so blingin. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle yo, but up in tha meantime you work yo' booty off. 

 **DEAN  
** Huh. Yeah, our crazy asses heard bout tha murders. 

 **REYNOLDS  
** Yes yes y'all. Da suckas was parishionerz of mine, I'd known dem fo' years. 

 **SAM  
** And tha killaz holla'd dat a angel made dem do that?

 **REYNOLDS  
** Yes yes y'all. Misguided souls, ta be thinkin dat Godz messenger would step tha fuck up n' incite playas ta cappin' n' shit. It aint nuthin but tragic.

 **DEAN  
** So you don't believe up in dem angel yarns, huh?

 **REYNOLDS  
** Oh, no, I straight-up believe. Kind of goes wit tha thang description. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM**  
(noddin ta a paintin on tha wall)  
Father, thatz Michael, right?

 **REYNOLDS  
** Thatz right. Da archangel Michael, wit tha flamin sword. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da fighta of demons yo. Holy force against evil.

 **SAM  
** So they not straight-up tha Hallmark card version dat dem hoes thinks, biatch? They're fierce, right, biatch? Vigilant?

 **REYNOLDS**  
Well, I gotta be thinkin of dem as mo' gangbangin than wrathful naaahhmean, biatch? But, uh, fo'sho, a shitload of Scripture paints angels as Godz warriors. "An angel of tha Lord rocked up ta them, tha glory of tha Lord shone down upon them, n' they was terrified."  
(SAM nods, DEAN looks confused)  
Luke. Two nine.  
  
  
Dean nodz sagely.

EXT. CHURCH - DAY

 **SAM  
** Well, fuck you fo' bustin lyrics wit us, Father n' shit. 

**REYNOLDS  
** Oh, it' s mah pleasure yo. Hope ta peep you again.

**DEAN**  
(seein a cold-ass lil collection of tribute shit all up in tha bottom of tha steps)  
Yo, Father, what's, what tha fuck be all dat for?

 **REYNOLDS  
** Oh, thatz fo' Father Gregory yo. Dude was a priest here.

 **DEAN  
** Was?

 **REYNOLDS  
** Dude took a dirt nap right on these steps. Dat punk interred up in tha church crypt.

 **DEAN  
** When did dis happen?

 **REYNOLDS  
** Two months ago yo. Dude gots popped fo' his hoopty keys. ****  


 **SAM  
** I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit.

 **REYNOLDS  
** Yeah, me like a muthafucka. Dude was a phat playa yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. I didn't even have time ta administa his fuckin last rites. But like I holla'd, itz a tough hood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Ever since da ruffneck took a dirt nap I've been prayin mah ass out. 

 **SAM  
** For what?

 **REYNOLDS  
** For deliverance. From tha shiznit n' tha bloodshed round here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. We could bust a lil divine intervention, I s'pose. 

 **DEAN  
** Well, Padre, props. We bout ta peep you again.

REYNOLDS goes back inside; DEAN n' SAM rewind tha shrine.

 **DEAN**  
Well, itz all startin ta make sense. Devoted priest takes a thugged-out dirt nap a violent dirtnap, biatch? Thatz vengeful spirit material right there.  
(SAM shifts uncomfortably)  
And he knew all tha other stiffs, cuz they went ta church here, up in fact I be willin ta bet dat cuz da thug was they priest, he knew thangs bout dem dat no muthafucka else knew.

 **SAM  
** Then again, Father Reynoldz started prayin fo' Godz help bout two months ago, right, biatch? Right bout tha time all dis started happening?

 **DEAN  
** Aw, come on, dude, whatz yo' deal?

 **SAM  
** What do you mean?

 **DEAN  
** Look, I be bout ta admit I be a lil' bit of a skeptic yo, but since when is you all Mista Muthafuckin, uh, 700 Club, biatch? Fuck dat shit, seriously. From tha git-go you've been willin ta loot dis angel crap, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, whatz next, is you goin ta start prayin every last muthafuckin day?

 **SAM  
** I do.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** I do pray every last muthafuckin day. It make me wanna hollar playa! I have fo' a long-ass time. 

 **DEAN**  
(startled)  
Da thangs you learn on some muthafucka yo. Huh. Well, come on, letz go hit up Father Gregoryz grave. 

  
INT. CHURCH CRYPT - EVENING

Da crypt be a maze of stone hallways, wit a shitload of stone angel figurines. They wander all up in slowly, DEAN a lil ahead of SAM fo' realz. As DEAN goes tha fuck into another room, SAM stops, lookin back at one of tha angels yo. Dude frowns as it, n' then tha entire room, begin ta shake fo' realz. A solid light appears behind his ass n' tha pimpin' muthafucka turns, mad drama washin away ta a look of awe.


	4. ACT THREE

INT. CHURCH - EVENING

DEAN hurries back tha fuck into tha room.

 **DEAN  
** Sam, come on, git tha lead out.

Dude sees SAM passed up on tha floor, n' rushes over.

 **DEAN  
** Sammy, biatch? Sammy dawwwwg! Yo hommie!

SAM jerks awake, groaning.

 **DEAN  
** Y'okay?

 **SAM**  
(starin all up in tha stone angel, stunned)  
Yeah. Yeah. 'm aiiight.

 **DEAN  
** Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

Dude hauls SAM ta his wild lil' feet n' guides his ass tha fuck into tha sanctuary, a hand on his thugged-out arm, n' shuts tha door behind dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass saw it, didn't yo slick ass, biatch? Didn't yo slick ass?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yeah. Dean, I saw a angel. 

 **DEAN**  
You...  
(SAM sits as DEAN pulls up a gangbangin' flask, unscrews it n' handz it ta his muthafuckin ass.)  
All right yo. Here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **SAM  
** I don't want a thugged-out drink.

 **DEAN**  
(shrugs, takes a swig)  
So. What make you be thinkin you saw a, uh, angel?

 **SAM  
** It just, it rocked up before me n' I just, dis feelin washed over me, you know, biatch? Like, like peace. Like grace. 

 **DEAN  
** Okay, Ecstasy Boy, maybe we'll git you some glowsticks n' a sick Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Seuss hat, huh?

 **SAM  
** Dean, I be straight-up n shit. Well shiiiit, it was rappin ta me, it knew whoz ass I was. 

 **DEAN**  
It aint nuthin but just a spirit, Sam. Okay, biatch? And it aint tha straight-up original gangsta one ta be able ta read peoplez minds.   
(he sits down on another pew)  
Okay, let me guess. Yo ass was personally chosen ta smite some sinner n' shit. You've just gots ta wait fo' some divine bat signal, is dat it?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, actually. 

 **DEAN  
** Great. I don't suppose you axed what tha fuck dis alleged shitty muthafucka did?

 **SAM  
** Actually I did, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And tha angel holla'd at mah dirty ass yo. Dude aint done anything. Yet. But da thug will. 

 **DEAN**  
(standz n' starts pacing)  
Oh, dis is, dis is . . . I don't believe all dis bullshit. 

 **SAM  
** Dean, tha angel aint been wack yet son! Someonez goin ta do suttin' awful, n' I can stop dat shiznit son!

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know, you supposed ta be shitty too, maybe, maybe I should just stop you n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know what, Dean, biatch? I don't understand hommie! Why can't you even consider tha possibility?

 **DEAN  
** What, dat dis be a angel?

 **SAM  
** Yes muthafucka! Maybe our crazy asses hustlin a angel here, n' we should stop! Maybe dis is Godz will!

 **DEAN**  
Okay, all right. Yo ass know what, biatch? I git dat shit. You've gots faith. Thatz- hey, phat fo' you, biatch. I be shizzle it make thangs easier n' shit.   
(he sits again)  
I be bout ta rap whoz ass else had faith like dat- Mom. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch used ta tell me when dat dunkadelic hoe tucked mah crazy ass up in dat angels was watchin over us. In fact, dat was tha last thang she eva holla'd ta mah dirty ass. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass never holla'd at mah crazy ass all dis bullshit.

 **DEAN**  
Well, whatz ta tell, biatch? Biatch was wrong. There was not a god damn thang protectin her n' shit. Therez no higher power, there be a no Dogg. I mean, there be a just chaos, n' shit, n' random unpredictable evil th, dat comes outta nowhere, n' rips you ta shreds. Yo ass want me ta believe up in dis stuff, biatch? I be goin ta need ta peep some hard proof. Yo ass gots any?  
(beat)  
Well, I do. Proof dat our phat asses dealin wit a spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.   


  
INT. CRYPT - EVENING

Father Gregoryz tombstone is covered up in creepin vines; DEAN n' SAM crouch before dat shit.

 **SAM  
** That looks like-

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but wormwood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Plant associated wit tha dead; specifically tha ones dat aint at rest. I don't peep it growin anywhere else, except over tha murdered priestz marker n' shit. It aint nuthin but him, Sam. 

 **SAM  
** Maybe.

 **DEAN  
** Maybe?

 **SAM  
** Dean, I don't give a fuck what tha fuck ta think.

 **DEAN  
** Okay. Yo ass want some mo' proof, biatch? I be bout ta hit you wit mo' proof.

 **SAM  
** How?

 **DEAN  
** We bout ta summon Gregoryz spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither.

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Here, biatch? In tha church?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Yeah, our laid-back asses just need all dem oddz n' ends, n' that, uh, séizzle ritual up in Dadz journal.

 **SAM  
** Oh, a séance, pimped out yo. Hope Whoopiz available. 

 **DEAN**  
(deadpan)  
Thatz funky, actually. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Seriously. If Father Gregoryz spirit be around, a séizzle will brang his ass right ta us. If itz him, then we'll put his ass ta rest. 

 **SAM  
** But if itz a angel, it won't show. Nothin' 'll happen.

 **DEAN**  
Exactly. Thatz one of tha perkz of tha thang, Sam: our phat asses don't gotta operate on faith. We can know fo' sure. Don't you wanna know fo' sure?  


  
EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - NIGHT

DEAN n' SAM leave a lil' small-ass grocery store, SAM holdin a paper sack n' smiling. 

 **SAM  
** Dude. I be bout ta admit we've gone pretty ghetto wit spellwork before yo, but dis takes tha cake. I mean, a Spongebob placemat instead of a altar cloth?

 **DEAN  
** We bout ta just put it Spongebob side down.

SAM laughs, then stops up in shock, starin at suttin' across tha street: a lil' playa holdin a funky-ass bunch of flowers; a funky-ass bright white light glows behind his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Dean, thatz dat shit. 

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** Thatz tha sign!

 **DEAN  
** Where?

 **SAM  
** Right there, right behind dat muthafucka! Thatz him, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And we gotta stop his muthafuckin ass.


	5. ACT FIVE

EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - NIGHT

Da lil' playa crosses tha street; SAM starts ta go afta his ass but DEAN stops his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Wait a minute.

 **SAM  
** What is you bustin, biatch? Let me go.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aint goin ta go bust a cap up in some muthafucka cuz a pimp holla'd at you to, is you insane?

 **SAM  
** Dean, I aint insane, I aint goin ta bust a cap up in his muthafuckin ass. I be goin ta stop his muthafuckin ass. 

 **DEAN  
** Define "stop", huh, biatch? I mean, what tha fuck is you goin ta do?

 **SAM  
** Dean, please, he goin ta hurt one of mah thugs, you know dat shit. 

 **DEAN  
** All right, come on.

Da lil' playa has gotten tha fuck into a cold-ass lil hoopty n' starts it up, pullin away. DEAN gets up in tha driver side of his hoopty n' starts it; SAM tries ta git up in tha other side but tha door is locked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SAM  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Unlock mah door.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aint cappin' mah playas, Sam. I gots dis muthafucka, you go do tha séance. 

 **SAM  
** Dean!

DEAN pulls away, followin tha lil' playa at a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass short distance. Da playa stops at a cold-ass lil corner n' gets up wit tha bunch of flowers, handin dem ta a biatch waitin on tha corner n' shit. They both git up in tha hoopty n' drive off again.  


  
INT. CHURCH CRYPT - NIGHT

Kneelin before Gregoryz grave, SAM has tha spell shiznit spread out: a cold-ass lil circle of lil' small-ass white candles, a big-ass black candle up in tha middle, tha placemat (Spongebob side down), n' tha Journal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack yo. Dude lights tha candles, picks up Johnz Journal, n' reads.

 **SAM**  
Amate spiritus obscure  
te quaerimus, te oramus  
nobiscumcolloquere  
aput nos circita  
Beloved hidden spirit  
We seek you, we beg yo thugged-out ass  
Come drop a rhyme wit us  
Join our circle

Dude sprinklez some herb on tha black candle n' it flares once, brightly.

 **REYNOLDS**  
(entering)  
What is you bustin, biatch? What tha fuck iz this?

 **SAM  
** Uh, Father,. Biiiatch please.I can explain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Um . . . actually, maybe i can't. Um. This be a, a séance.

 **REYNOLDS  
** A séance, biatch? Young dude, yo ass is up in tha Doggy Den of Dogg.

 **SAM  
** It aint nuthin but based on early Christian rites, if dat helps any.

 **REYNOLDS  
** Enough cause I gots dem finger-lickin' chickens wit tha siz-auce. Yo ass is comin wit mah dirty ass. 

 **SAM  
** Father, please, you, just wait a second dawwwg!

As FR. REYNOLDS pulls SAM ta tha exit, a gangbangin' familiar bright glow buildz behind dem wild-ass muthafuckas. They turn, FR. REYNOLDS up in awe, SAM up in disappointment.

 **REYNOLDS  
** Oh mah god hommie! Is dat ... is dat a angel?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, itz not. It aint nuthin but just Father Gregory.

Da bright glow dims n' coalesces ta reveal a young, thugged-out priest (FR. GREGORY).

**REYNOLDS  
** Thomas?!

**GREGORY  
** I've come up in answer ta yo' lyrics. 

  
EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - NIGHT

DEAN continues ta follow tha supposedly evil lil' man.  


  
INT. CHURCH CRYPT - NIGHT

SAM approaches tha Gregory-spirit cautiously. 

**GREGORY  
** Sam.. n' you KNOWS I busted you on yo' path. Yo ass should hurry.

**SAM  
** Father, I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. But you not a angel.

 **GREGORY  
** Of course I am. 

 **SAM  
** No. Yo ass be a man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass be a spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither fo' realz. And you need ta rest. 

 **GREGORY  
** I was a man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But now I be a angel. I was on tha stepz of tha church fo' realz. And I felt dat cap pierce right all up in mah dirty ass. But there was no pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And suddenly I could peep . . .everything. Father Reynolds, I saw you, prayin n' bustin up like a biatch here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I came ta help you, biatch.

**REYNOLDS  
** Help me how?

  
EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - NIGHT

Da allegedly evil lil' playa turns down a thugged-out dark alley n' DEAN temporarily loses sight of his muthafuckin ass. Dude slams tha steerin wheel up in frustration.

 **DEAN**  
Dammit playa!  


  
INT. CHURCH CRYPT - NIGHT

 **REYNOLDS  
** Those murdaz dat was cuz of yo slick ass?

 **GREGORY  
** I received tha Word of Dogg yo. Dude was rappin ta me, holla'd at mah crazy ass ta smite tha wicked. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be carryin up his will.

 **REYNOLDS  
** Yo ass is rollin innocent playas ta kill.

 **GREGORY  
** Those innocent playas is bein offered redemption. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Some playas need redemption. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Don't they, Sam?

Sam looks away, touched a nerve.

 **REYNOLDS  
** How tha fuck can you call dis redemption?

 **GREGORY  
** Yo ass can't KNOW it now, nahmeean, biatch? But tha rulez of playa n' tha rulez of Dogg is two straight-up different thangs.

 **SAM  
** Those people. They're locked up. 

 **GREGORY  
** Fuck dat shit, they horny. They've found peace, beaten they demons fo' realz. And I've given dem tha keys ta Heaven. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **REYNOLDS  
** No. Fuck dat shit, dis is vengeance, itz wrong. Thomas, dis goes against every last muthafuckin thang you believed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass is lost, misguided.

 **GREGORY  
** Father n' shit. Fuck dat shit, I aint misguided. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **REYNOLDS  
** Yo ass aint a angel, Thomas. Men cannot be angels. 

 **GREGORY  
** But . . . but I, I don't understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass prayed fo' me ta come.

 **REYNOLDS  
** I prayed fo' Godz help. Not all dis bullshit. What you bustin aint Godz will. "Thou shalt not kill". Thatz tha word of Dogg.

  
EXT fo' realz. ALLEY - NIGHT

Da supposedly evil lil' playa stops tha car; tha lil' biatch holdin tha flowers looks confused, smilez nervously.

 **YOUNG WOMAN  
** How tha fuck come we stopped?

Da supposedly evil lil' playa smilez back mo' nervously, his wild lil' fuckin eye twitchin yo. Dude leans over suddenly n' kisses her n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch fendz his ass off wit a laugh.

 **YOUNG WOMAN  
** Um, weren't we goin ta git all up in tha pornos, biatch? Ah -- We should go, or we goin ta be late.

Suddenly tha supposedly evil lil' playa hits her, hard, across tha face. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch yelps up in shock.

 **SUPPOSEDLY EVIL YOUNG MAN  
** I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. I be sorry, itz just I've never done dis before. 

She tries ta git outta tha hoopty yo, but he locked tha door n' her big-ass booty scrabblez uselessly all up in tha handle.

 **EVIL YOUNG MAN  
** Look, I holla'd I was sorry hommie!

 **YOUNG WOMAN**  
Please biaatch!  
(he pulls up a knife)  
What?

Dude lunges at her wit tha knife; dat dunkadelic hoe tries ta fight his ass off. They struggle fo' all dem seconds.

 **EVIL YOUNG MAN  
** No. N-- Quit dat shiznit son! 

Da window shattas behind his head; DEAN reaches in, punches in, n' slams his face tha fuck into tha steerin wheel. DEAN unlocks tha doors n' tha biatch gets out; tha pimpin' muthafucka tumblez over tha hood ta reach her, grabbin her shouldaz frantically.

 **DEAN  
** Is you aiiight, biatch? Is you aiiight?!

 **YOUNG WOMAN**  
(crying)  
Thank god dawwwg!

Behind them, tha evil lil' playa has come ta n' started tha car; da ruffneck drives off.

 **DEAN**  
Dammit son! Is you shizzle you aiiight, biatch? Do you gotz a cold-ass lil beeper?  
(she nods, still sobbing)  
Call 9-1-1!

DEAN runs off n' gets up in his hoopty ta chase afta tha evil lil' playa again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   


  
INT. CHURCH CRYPT - NIGHT

GREGORY is staring, bewildered, at his own headstone yo. Dude turns ta grill REYNOLDS n' SAM.

**SAM  
** Let our asses help you, biatch. 

**GREGORY  
** No.

**REYNOLDS  
** It aint nuthin but time ta rest, Thomas, ta be at peace. Please, let me hit you wit Last Rites. 

GREGORY nodz up in resignation; FR. REYNOLDS lifts his handz up in prayer.

 **REYNOLDS  
** Oh Holy Hosts above, I call upon thee as a servant of Christ ta sanctify our actions dis day, up in fulfillment of tha will of Dogg.

REYNOLDS gasps as GREGORY flickers like a gangbangin' finger-lickin' distorted image.

**GREGORY  
** Father Reynolds?

**REYNOLDS  
** Rest. 

GREGORY kneels; REYNOLDS holdz a hand over GREGORY'S forehead

 **REYNOLDS  
** I call upon tha Archangel Raphael, Masta of tha Air, ta make open tha way. Let tha fire of tha Holy Spirit now descend, dat dis bein might be awakened ta tha ghetto beyond. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

GREGORY glows brightly, then vanishes ta a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass short soft (angelic) chorus. REYNOLDS lowers his hand up in awe.

  
EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - NIGHT

Car chase scene. Chasin tha evil lil' playa at a mo' frantic rate now, DEAN grips tha steerin wheel tightly. They cut across lanes, over grass, n' generally cause mayhem; at a cold-ass lil cross-street, a lil' small-ass pickup truck carryin long metal pipes screeches ta a halt up in front of tha manz hoopty fo' realz. A pipe spins off tha truck bed, bouncin once on tha ground n' plowin straight all up in his windshield. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Well shiiiit, it impalez his ass straight all up in tha chest. DEAN stops tha hoopty up in shock n' gets out.

 **DEAN  
** Holy . . . 


	6. ACT FIVE

INT yo. HOTEL ROOM - DAY

SAM is packing. DEAN approaches tha room n' entas from outside.   
How tha fuck was yo' day?

 **SAM (sadly, dully, demoralized)  
** Yo ass was right. Well shiiiit, it wasn't a angel. Dat shiznit was Gregory.

DEAN pulls tha flask from his crazy-ass muthafuckin inner pocket, takes a thugged-out drink, then, thankin bout, offers it ta SAM. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM takes dat shit. 

Over tha followin conversation, Bob Dylanz "Knockin on Heavenz Door" plays.

 **SAM**  
I don't give a fuck, Dean, I just, uh . . .   
(he sits on tha bed)  
I wanted ta believe ... so badly, ah ... It aint nuthin but so damn hard ta do this, what tha fuck our phat asses do. Yo ass be all alone, you know, biatch? And ... there be a so much evil up there up in tha ghetto, Dean, I feel like I could drown up in it fo' realz. And when I be thinkin bout mah destiny, when I be thinkin bout how tha fuck I could end up... 

 **DEAN**  
(sittin on tha bed beside him)  
Yeah, well, quit freakin' tha fuck up bout dis shit. All right, biatch? I be watchin up fo' you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I know yo ass is. But you just one person, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. And I needed ta be thinkin dat there was suttin' else, watchin too, you know, biatch? Some higher juice n' shit. Some pimped outa good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! And dat maybe . . .

 **DEAN  
** Maybe what?

 **SAM**  
Maybe I could be saved.  
(nervous laugh)  
But, uh, you know, dat just clouded mah judgment, n' you right. I mean, we've gotta go wit what tha fuck we know, wit what tha fuck we can see, wit whatz right there up in front of our own two eyes. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, itz funky you say all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** Why?

 **DEAN  
** Gregoryz spirit gave you some pretty phat shiznit. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. That muthafucka up in tha hoopty was shitty news. I barely gots there up in time. 

 **SAM  
** What happened?

 **DEAN  
** Dat punk dead as fuckin fried chicken.

 **SAM  
** Did . . . yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** No. But I be bout ta rap one thang. If . . . Da way da ruffneck died, if I hadn't peeped it wit mah own two eyes I never would have believed dat shit. I mean ... I don't give a fuck what tha fuck ta booty-call dat shit.

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Dean, what tha fuck did you see?

 **DEAN  
** Maybe . . . Godz will. 


End file.
